Splish Splash
by Bearbutt
Summary: It's a rainy night in Gotham and Bruce decides to make a house call. Bat/Cat PWP.


**A/N: SMUT! It's whats for porn. I've had this 75% done and waiting in my harddrive for months. This is a little end-of-semester celebration that marks the beginning of more updates. At least for the Christmas break. I haven't abandoned That Feline Beat, and will be uploading this on AO3. That's just in case gets in a tizzy at my adult intimacy and yanks this off the site.**

**Bruce and Selina are massive dorks.**

**This is a one-shot, so following it will get you nothing but disappointment. Sorry.**

**-B**

* * *

Most months in Gotham are filled with rainy weather. They don't call it the 'Depression Capital' of the US for no reason. Tonight is the eighth consecutive night of heavy rainfall. Large puddles cover the roofs of even the most recent apartments, and water damage complaints have been literally flooding in from all over the city.

Which is of course why Mr. Freeze is working on a larger version of his gun. Turning the rain to snow in order to make Gotham into a city-cicle. Fighting thugs in the rain is a complete pain in the ass. His suit and cape are built to repel the heavy moisture, but it doesn't do much good when he's trying to get traction on the slick surface of an old warehouse. He has slipped no fewer than five times at this point, and though it doesn't show, it's wearing Batman down.

Using an aikido throw he sends one henchman flying into another. Now he just has to deal with Fries.

You'd think after so many years of villainy, Victor would learn to make his helmet out of a shatter-proof glass. Alas, another victory due to a punch to the face. He waits with the hog-tied criminals until he sees the flashing red-and-blue of Gotham's finest.

Water sloshes around his boots as he grapples across the street. The slickness of... well, everything makes his line slip and for a jolting moment of panic he sees the headline of 'Batman Made into Street Pizza' before tumbling onto the soaked brick top of another building.

Bruce takes a moment to pant away his oncoming anxiety attack. Okay, so maybe grappling or even jumping isn't the best idea right now. The thought of driving home in the rain, only to continue stewing in the wetness of the Batcave sounds dreary to him.

Since he happens to be in the neighbourhood, and it's probably safer than driving home... (Who is he kidding? The Batmobile could drive through lava.)

* * *

His gauntlets and treads give him a good grip on the fire escape as he leans forward to open the window further. A pair of slitted green eyes give him a judgmental look as he slinks in through the chipped pane. Nevertheless, Isis orbits his legs as he enters the apartment.

Bruce does his best to avoid getting water all over the waxed wooden floors. He leaves his boots by the window and inspects his soggy socks. There's a blister forming on his left big toe. No matter how waterproof something is, your feet will always get wet. He pads down the hallway in search of the apartment's human occupant. Steam and the creaking of pipes alert him of her location.

His grin is almost boyish as he picks the lock on the bathroom door.

* * *

Selina defies most stereotypes about cats disliking rain. Nevertheless, going for a jog in the weather was good reason for a shower afterwards. She likes doing a full body cleanse on nights like tonight. She scrubs her body with sea salt and rinses it off with loofa and scented gel. She typically uses a rose scent, but the orange blossom was on sale. Being a thief doesn't make her any less thrifty. Now her whole bathroom smells like oranges.

She's shaving her legs when an inky black shape catches her peripheral in the shower door. Her heart hammers against her often-abused ribcage. Selina keeps a firm grip on the razor. The shower door opens and she whirls on her intruder, slashing his face with her weapon.

The dark figure makes a startled noise and holds a hand up in defense.

"Selina! It's me."

Blood oozes from the trio of slits across his jaw. A waterlogged and puffy-haired version of her (boyfriend? lover?) dork knight stands in the entry to her shower.

"Serves you right for breaking into a woman's bathroom. Ass."

She tugs his equally nude body under the stream to wash any hair out of his cuts. The water flattens his curls so the dark hair covers his blue eyes. Droplets stick to dark lashes that peer downward at her. He looks so much younger when he behaves like an actual human.

Selina leans up and dollops a kiss on his full lower lip. He tilts his mouth downwards to press into the kiss harder. He palms one of her breasts with a large hand, another part of his anatomy presses urgently against her.

She flashes him a toothy smile as they separate. She reaches past his beefy figure to turn the water off.

Bruce makes a disappointed noise.

"When you start paying the water bill, then maybe we can have more shower sex. As it is, I'm already prune-y."

His brow raises, "You know I happen to pay the water bill up at this little place called Wayne Manor."

She rolls her eyes, "I'm not moving in with you Bruce."

Selina towels off, leaving him a good view of her stretched form as he drips dry. She tosses her used towel at him before pulling on a robe and exiting the steamy bathroom.

Led entirely by his dick, he follows her to the bedroom. She doesn't bother with the lights as she sits by the bed. Her mattress is pressed flush with the wall so she can have the best view of the stars from her window.

Well, what little stars can be seen in Gotham.

She sits atop her bed and turns to stare at the doorway. There stands Bruce. Backlit and buck naked like the Adonis he is. Not that she'll ever tell him that. Her eyes scan his silhouette. His proportions are weird. It's not something people typically notice about Batman. An injury has made his knees crooked and his torso is much longer than his legs. Slavic heritage rears its genetic head, covering him in thick, dark auburn hair. He's complained to her on more than one occasion about getting his body hair stuck in the joints of his suit. She finds him utterly ridiculous.

That and utterly perfect. With pride, she can admit to having loved every inch of his scarred body.

He moves towards her with purposeful strides. She notices the mess of Hello Kitty band-aids covering the slashes on his cheek. Selina knows it's a sign of how fucked up their brand of love is that she's more excited to see if it will scar than worried about lasting damage.

She likes to mark what's hers.

Bruce? Definitely hers.

He kneels, making a dent in her down comforter. She moves, making room for him, but he stays in place. She can feel his blue eyes surveying her, the night sky, the fog on the window.

"Rough night?" She asks.

"Work as usual." He replies, finally choosing to recline with her.

"Hmm. Anyone special I know?"

"Freeze. Planning to use the atmospheric moisture to turn Gotham into a snow globe."

"That's one way to combat global warming."

Bruce groans at her comment. She bites her tongue at him cheekily.

"If I had a week, maybe I could explain all the problems with Freeze's logic." The man grumbles.

Selina reaches up to palm his Hello Kitty bandage pad. Her thumb moves from there to a bruise-bloomed cheekbone.

"Sorry about the scratch." She purrs.

"The razor is an effective weapon for bathroom intruders."

"I already had it in my hand."

"Shaving your legs? Expecting visitors this evening?"

He caresses the smooth flesh from ankle to inner thigh. Her breath catches as his thumb brushes closer to her groin.

Breathing through her noise sharply, she responds,

"I had a hunch my boyfriend might drop in to escape the weather."

(Boyfriend? It sounds so... childish.)

"Boyfriend huh? Is he hefty?" Bruce asks with a grin.

She bites into his smile as his thumb teases her lower lips. Bruce pulls his mouth away from hers with a resonating pop. She pants and glares at him, not amused.

His hand parts her robe, pushing it down her shoulders and untying the belt he takes a moment to enjoy the sight. Her dark pubic hair is still fluffy from the shower, not yet pushed flat by restraining undergarments. She's just as horny as he is. His eyes follow the trail of slickness that is practically dripping on the comforter. Her heat-turgid nipples have turned into arousal hardened pink peaks. Bruce feels his mouth go dry as he licks his lips.

He uses a hand to grip the back of each thigh before pushing them both upward towards her chest. A little moan rises from his throat as he buries his nose in the 'v' of her centre. Bruce inhales deeply before lapping at the puffy inner lips.

She makes deep hisses and little wails as her toes dig into the hard muscle of his shoulders. Bruce can't help but smile and push back at the hips tilting closer to his face. He goes back and forth between drinking her in to suckling that little nub at the cleft of her cunt.

He pushes his index finger in and up to the final knuckle, then twists and curls. Her walls squeeze at the digit so tightly he has difficulty moving it in and out. Bruce grunts and twists his wrist as if changing direction would loosen his finger. She comes with a shriek. Her whole body shudders, collapsing around him as he continues fucking her through orgasm.

"Jesus, Bruce." She gasps.

Her spine is still arched and her green eyes are like starlight. Lewdly, he wipes his chin on the back of his hand and kisses up her body.

Their bodies mold together as he reaches her mouth. Selina tastes herself on his tongue. She is embarrassed at the noise of disappointment made in her throat when he pulls away. Selina squints at his form in the dark as she watches him tip off the bed and jog back to the bathroom.

She throws an arm over her face, wondering why she even bothers. The startled sound of Bruce tripping over Mocha (the newest kitten in her brood) alerts her of his return.

He's standing there with his utility belt in one hand, bat-emblem decorated condom in the other.

"You have a problem." She tells him.

Bruce lets the belt slide to the floor.

"I mean it. You should probably seek psychiatric help."

He's standing by the bed, rolling a fucking Batman condom onto his dick as he tells her, "Last shrink I saw tried to kill me."

"Strange doesn't count."

"I was talking about Quinn, actually."

Selina puts a thumb in front of her vision to block the image of his Bat-cock waving at her to look him in the eye.

"You know, the mental health practice does kind of have the worst record when it comes to villains former employment."

"Mental illness is highly contagious." He shrugs.

She uses her leg to hook the area below his butt. She tugs and he rejoins her on her bed. The kisses he drops onto her mouth, neck, and breasts are sloppy and passionate. Selina grins into his mouth and reaches down to run a finger along his latex-clad erection. His hips flutter like a moth's wings at her touch.

Eager.

They've done this too many times to even bother going through the 'are you sure?' romance novel rigmarole. Bruce just eases into her like a knife through warm butter.

(Again with the purple prose.)

Still, it's been a while and she has missed just how good being this close to him feels. Stomach to stomach, sheathing his length. Their kisses are connected by strands of saliva and he is quick to adjust their position. She may not be as flexible as she used to, but she can still get her legs pretty far back. They hook around his shoulders as his rises to his knees.

His eyes are dark and hooded as he gazes down upon her. In this light he's almost delicate. So bare in front of her. She moves her hands from his back up to his chest. She lets her fingers linger on the puckered scar tissue on his clavicle before closing them around his throat. Bruce grunts and looks at her starkly. After a second, he nods and she puts more weight onto her hand.

She's so slick around his cock that he keeps bottoming out and slip-sliding against her clit. He huffs in annoyance and adjusts again. Selina moves one of her legs from over his shoulder to around his waist. It's an anchor. His hips jitter and twitch as he enters her again. His thrusts are deeper and slower this time. Her thumbs are constricting his windpipe and he wants to make the sensation last. He's so hard he feels like maybe his dick has been replace with lead pipe.

"Jesus Bruce. Fuck me." And Selina clearly feels it too.

He feels no embarrassment about the strangled whimper he makes as he begins pounding her soppy cunt in earnest. Her come is pouring down his shaft and splashing his balls with every thrust. They aren't quiet. She's practically howling between short pants and whimpers of his name. His throat hurts from the harsh barks he makes.

His thrusts get shallower as her passage gets smaller and tighter. Selina drags his face down for a kiss. She's breathing him and he's not breathing at all. He's going to pass out. Blue face, red dick, and what a way to go. She releases him and he gasps for air. The edges of his vision sparkle with yellow starbursts as he comes. He pictures the condom swelling like a balloon and shooting off. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. A nine rope orgasm. Fuck. He feels like smoking a cigar or something.

Selina is licking his jaw and checking his eyes for broken blood vessels.

"Diagnosis, Doc?" He murmurs, spent.

"Probably the best sex I've had in a few months. Jesus Bruce, you haven't bruised me like that since we were chasing rooftops."

"Mmm... you were a bad kitty. Scratched my face. Needed to show you there are consequences for wounding the Batman."

"I'll have to cut deeper next time."

Bruce yawned in agreement.

* * *

**Psst. Look at that lonely Review box down there. **


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